


I found brimstone in my garden

by Flip_wizard



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Broken Bones, Cuddling, Daisy is a wolf, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Violence, Whump, could be read as Jon/Daisy, i don't make the rules, if you wanna, post-160, threats of eye violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flip_wizard/pseuds/Flip_wizard
Summary: If Jon had learned anything over the years, really it should have been this: he should not go out on his own.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 7
Kudos: 124





	1. Jon

**Author's Note:**

> No I will not explain how Daisy is both still a wolf and free from The Hunt, that's not my job. No I will not explain anything in my story, fuck you.  
> It's about the hurt, the comfort, the using your wolf friend as a cane cause an asshole broke your real one.  
> Also I never know whether or not I've tagged everything that needs tagging so let me know if I left anything out.  
> Title is from Little Pistol by Mother Mother

Jon is walking back home- or whatever he, Martin, and Daisy call home these days- sneaking through alleyways to avoid detection. His cane sounds gently on the ground with each step he takes, an almost comforting beat as he hurries to get back.  
He doesn’t expect it when someone- something- emerges from the shadows, of which there are far too many as of late, and slams him against the wall to his side. Dazed, Jon looks at the person holding him in place and doesn’t recognize them.  
Since the apocalypse started and The Beholding spat him out- done with him he presumes, for what does a ruler need of a pawn who’s done their job- his questions have not held the same power they once had, so when he begins to ask, “who are-,” he doesn’t expect an answer even before his attacker slams him harder against the wall. He can feel as the stone behind him starts to bend with the strength with which his body is being shoved into it, causing his already strangled breath to catch. He can feel- hear- his bones begin to creak against the pressure and he has a second to worry for broken bones before his attacker suddenly steps away from Jon, letting him fall to the ground, hard. They kneel down beside him, taking his head in one of their hands, right over his mouth, and grounds his skull against the concrete below them.  
“No question, little archivist,” they say, their lips stretching in a horrible facsimile of a smile, “Not that you’re gonna be able to get many out by the time I’m done.”  
They take his cane in their hands- he hadn’t realized he’d dropped that, huh- and breaks it in two over their knee, throwing the broken halves further down the alley, the way Jon had been walking before this started.  
Jon opens his mouth, maybe to ask why they’re doing this, maybe to ask them to stop, but honestly he doesn’t even know why he does it, and all it earns him is a fist to his face. His head cracks against the ground with the force of the punch and suddenly all Jon can think about is the pain radiating through his skull. And suddenly he knows that he isn’t going to make it out of this, that the person beginning to slam their feet into his vulnerable chest, isn’t going to let him live through this.  
All he can think of is Martin, is Daisy, how he hadn’t told them he loved them before he’d left earlier in the day, how he hadn’t even seen them. And god he was never going to see them again.  
His attacker must have noticed his slipping attention because suddenly there’s a heel in his bad knee and a new fire of pain coursing through his body. He hears a scream loud enough to make his ears ring, and, distantly, realizes that it must’ve been his own.  
“Back with me mate,” they say, a smirk across their lips and their voice dripping with sarcasm, “Ain’t quite done yet.”  
With that they land another blow to his chest, right where his ribs are gone, and for the upteenth time since all of this began, Jon feels his breath leave him. But this time, he realizes with a sharp panic, he can’t get oxygen back into his lungs. He panics as his attacker moves away from him, smiling as he writhes in pain, suffocating. It feels like minutes- hours before he gets a breath back in, but he does, finally, in gasping gulps he devours the oxygen it provides and curls up in on himself. He doesn’t even have time to think he’s safe before his attacker climbs atop him and pushes his back against the ground.  
“Wonder how much I could get for The Archivist’s eyes,” they say- the last holds of The Beholding, blessed that he is to get this information, tells him it’s 5000 pounds. Jon’s panic starts again in earnest and he does his best to push the other off of him, but he wasn’t strong even before his body was destroyed, and he was definitely not strong enough to get the bulking figure off. They pull out a knife and Jon stills, terrified that any move he makes will cause the knife, when it finally slices out his eyes, to slip past the thin layer of skin at the back of his retina and pierce his brain.  
The sting of the blade doesn’t come, though, and suddenly he feels the previous weight holding him down disappear.  
Confused, he looks around. He sees, with a shock, his attacker on the ground a few feet from him, a wolf atop them, tearing their body apart. Jon smiles despite himself, already recognizing the dark red fur. When she’s finally done, it seems, she turns towards Jon and walks up to him.  
“Daisy-dearest,” he says, incredibly fond, incredibly grateful. He doesn’t know if he actually communicates all that he feels, but Daisy seems to understand because she presses her muzzle against the side of his face, pushing against it gently. He wraps his arms around her neck and hugs her with all the force he can manage. And, if Daisy’s matted fur is damper than it had been before, well, she wouldn’t tell.  
They stay like that for a few minutes before, it seems, Daisy decides it’s time to go home. She spends a few seconds trying to find his cane before locating the ruined pieces of it, pushing them mournfully to one of the walls and walking back to Jon.  
“What’s the plan now?” he says, and at the same time Daisy has crouched down beside him, offering her body as support for him.  
“Ah,” is all he manages to get out before he starts to pull himself up against her. She’s surprisingly large, in this form, reaching up to his hip, which makes her a surprisingly good cane with his real one destroyed.  
He leans bodily against her and smiles as she supports his weight.  
“Let’s get home,” he says, and he smiles at the word, thinking of martin, and takes a section of Daisy’s fur into his hand, reminding him that she’s truly here. And with that the two of them make their way back to their hideout.


	2. Daisy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy walks Jon home, it's successful, Jon's nose notwithstanding.

Daisy is growing increasingly worried as Jon leans more heavily against her, stumbling more with each step the two of them take together. The place where they’re staying isn’t far from where she found Jon- Martin had wanted to go too, after Jon hadn’t come home when his note had said he would, but she hadn’t let him- but it was already taking far too long than was normal. Multiple times she attempted to urge Jon fully onto her back, or at least stop for a second, but each time he would insist he would rest when he was home, and she knew he would, not to mention it was more dangerous to stop out here than inside.  
They kept walking, going slower and slower with each passing moment, Jon has been trying to talk to her for the past few minutes but his words are slurred and confused- Daisy assumes he has a concussion, which would make sense with the bleeding wound on the back of his head.  
Out of nowhere, Daisy feels as Jon collapses next to her, one second he was trying to tell her about a book he had once read about the migratory habits of wolves and the next he was face down on the ground with a sickening crunch.  
It’s not the first time she’s wished she was human again, but at that moment she feels it stronger than ever. She wishes she had hands to hold Jon’s face with, arms to cradle his body, a voice to tell him he’s okay. She wishes that she’d let Martin come along, at least he would have been able to carry Jon, at least they would all be home by now. But she doesn’t have any of those things, she does have a mouth though, and teeth she knows how to use, so, as carefully and gently as she can, she takes the collar of Jon’s jumper between her maw and drags him further along.  
While they walked- well, she walked, Jon was dragged- she worried herself more and more over how the jumper was pulled against his throat, though she could hear his even breaths, his steady heartbeat.  
All in all it takes Daisy and Jon 30 minutes- for a trip that would usually take 10 on a bad day- to make it back home. The door to their hideout is closed, obviously, and without hands- damn it- she can’t turn the nob. She and Jon had set up a system for her to prove her identity, but she didn’t know if Martin was in the know, but she had to try. She slowly dragged her paw down the door and then followed it with two quick swipes.  
To her infinite relief, Martin opened the door immediately, gasping at the state of Jon and taking him up into his arms- Daisy was at the same time jealous and thankful for this.


	3. Martin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon makes it home, Martin makes sure he's okay

Martin is sitting vigil in front of the door when he hears Daisy’s knock, it takes him a second to even recognize it at first, so often she’s with one of them when she comes or goes that he almost never hears it. He whips the door open when it clicks finally and in front of him is Daisy, with Jon held in between her teeth- when they first found her, seeing this would have honestly scared the shit out of him, but now he trusts her, which he would never have thought possible after Jon’s coma.  
He hurriedly pulls Jon into his arms, moving him towards their room as quickly as he can without hurting him more. When Martin finally gets him into the bed, he assesses the damage done to his partner; broken nose, split lip, possible broken rib, damage to the left knee, and a wound steadily bleeding on the back of his head.  
Honestly Martin doesn’t know where to start, for a good few minutes all he can do is stare at Jon before a nudge from Daisy strikes him into action. First he needs to deal with the worst of it. He gets to work dealing with all of Jon’s wounds, minus his ribs and nose- the ribs because he doesn’t even know where to begin with figuring out what wrong with them and the nose because he is completely aware of how to deal with it.  
Once he’s finished with everything he can fix without hurting Jon too much he readies himself for setting Jon’s nose back into place.  
“Daisy if you could, uh, sit on Jon to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. That would be- well, much appreciated,” He tries to sound calm or unaffected, but his hands are shaking something fierce. Daisy nods- or as close as she can to nodding while she’s a wolf- and Martin takes the bottom half of Jon’s nose in his fingers.  
“Sorry Jon,” he says quietly before setting Jon’s nose back into place with a sickening crack that makes Martin’s stomach twist tightly in his gut. A loud shout of pain exits Jon’s mouth and his eyes shoot open, both glazed and darting around the room. He starts to struggle against the weight of Daisy on top of him.  
“Jon, love, it’s okay, you’re home. It’s just Daisy. It’s just me and Daisy,” he says, lightly holding Jon’s face in his hand, forcing him to keep his gaze on him. Daisy follows suit and presses her muzzle against the underside of his chin, slowly nuzzling into him. They stay like that for an indeterminable amount of time before Jon finally calms down.  
Once Daisy and Martin are sure that Jon’s not going to slip back into his panic, she gets off of him and Martin helps him sit upright against the wall behind their mattress.  
“Okay, now that you’re awake, I’m gonna need you to answer some questions,” Jon looks at him tiredly and looks like he’s about to protest so Martin stops him, “No, I’m sorry, but you’ve got a nasty head wound and I am not going to have you slip into a coma because we didn’t check you for a concussion.”  
“Fine,” Jon says, his head resting against Martin’s shoulder and his burnt hand slowly stroking Daisy’s fur.  
“Good. What’s your name?”  
“Jonathan Sims.”  
“And ours”  
“Martin K. Blackwood,” he points at Martin, “Daisy Tonner,” he points into his lap where Daisy’s head rests, eyes closed.  
“What year is it?”  
“2019. The month is unknown because, yknow, the apocalypse. We are in Central London. It is mid afternoon. And I am fine, Martin,” Martin shoots him a look and Jon looks down to his abused body, then back up, “My brain is fine.”  
Martin is still skeptical, but Jon doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of a concussion so he’ll let him be, for now, he’ll check again in a few hours, just in case. He’s about to ask about his ribs, but the tired look Jon sends his way stops him immediately. So instead he offers to get tea and pain killers, both of which Jon takes appreciatively, smiling at Martin.  
After they finish their tea they settle into bed, Jon squeezed in between Daisy and Martin. Martin runs his fingers through Jon’s hair, as he does similarly with Daisy’s fur. Martin presses a kiss to the top of Jon’s head, who smiles into his shoulder. And Martin is sure that all of them are happy that Jon is back in their arms.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! Leave a kudos or a comment if you feel so inclined.


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